


Five, Three, Four, One

by EquinoxSolstice



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Based on a True Experience, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oblivious!Tony, Possible Unrequited Love, Sending Mixed Messages, steve!feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-17
Updated: 2012-12-17
Packaged: 2017-11-21 08:33:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/595670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EquinoxSolstice/pseuds/EquinoxSolstice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no clear line between friendship and love. Sometimes it's just one, sometimes it's both, sometimes it's neither. </p><p>But when the borders are deliberately blurred, it's all Steve can do to hang in the balance. Tipping the scales will bring complete discord.</p><p>And Steve Rogers isn't sure if he wants to take that risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five, Three, Four, One

It started with five words.

" _Let's watch a movie together_."

In hindsight, Steve really had it coming. Maybe he was that painfully naive, but the opportunity displayed itself, and Steve wasn't above giving in to what he really wanted. He was only human after all.

So when Tony Stark randomly said that to him one night when they were alone in the Tower, Steve had said yes immediately.

He liked Tony. Well, like in the sense that was maybe--obviously,  _certainly_ \--more than he would have wanted. Nobody was immune to the Stark charm, their rocky, destructive start notwithstanding, and while Captain America was infallible, Steve Rogers wasn't. He and Tony were just so different, the kind that blew into opposite poles at times, but ultimately managed to bring itself into a balance, the compliment of heart and mind that was the core of their team. 

If only things weren't so complicated.

So the movie to be watched was discussed, time and date, as well as the food to be eaten (Tony was adamant in the belief that it is not a movie if there was no popcorn and cola), and Steve shuffled into the kitchen to prepare their movie snacks, since JARVIS had the movie in his servers.  

And then things...  _changed_.

Steve knew that Tony wasn't a very affectionate person, hell, both of them weren't, but the way he looked at Steve now--bright eyes, shades of ocher and bottled honey--was filled with...  _something_. Steve didn't know how to name it, was afraid to name it, he might not stop himself from getting so deep that he wouldn't be able to turn back anymore. 

It frightened him. 

But at the same time he reveled in the attention Tony was giving him, who was sitting in the counter and watching him as he buttered up the popcorn, grinning and flicking him occasionally on the cheek when Steve had his head turned away. The flush was creeping up to his neck and ears, he knew, but it was the  _good_  kind of being flustered, the one that made him giddy and contented, the happy, excited kind. 

It was easy to forget when Tony was there.

Still talking and teasing one another, both of them made their way to the lounge where Tony's massive entertainment system greeted him, Steve could never get used to the fact that they had technology to make their lives easier now. In his opinion, they just managed to complicate things further.

Everything was simpler back then.

They sat on the couch, the light dimmed, and the movie started. Usually Steve was so fascinated with modern media, the stories they created couldn't exist in his time. He enjoyed movie nights with the Avengers, they seemed to take it as their responsibility to teach him the ways of the modern world, he and Thor both, and Steve didn't mind, he knew that was one of the ways they showed their willingness and affection for their team.

Being with Tony alone, though...

Watching with Tony was more educational, Steve found in surprise. He would ask questions and Tony would answer them as simply and as concisely as he could, gesturing to the scene to illustrate his point. Before Steve knew it they were leaning their heads closer, murmuring in hushed, quiet voices, as if they were going to disturb anyone else if they didn't. 

His heart was pounding so fast that Steve was sure Tony could hear it. The room was cooler than usual, it was snowing outside, the white flakes drifting through the wide, clear windows.

"What about that one, Tony? Why did he do something like that?" Steve whispered, staring at the movie. Maybe it was just him who was feeling some sort of tension, sitting so closely together like this, thigh to thigh and elbow to elbow. Wavy brown hair tickled his temple, the scent of metal and interestingly, coconut, washing over his senses.

"Hmm? That scene? If I tell you, then I'll have to spoil the whole movie." Tony grinned, and somehow it made the play of lights on his face seem brighter, his face even more attractive, as he glanced at Steve.

And then Tony's fingers laid over his forearm.

They were cold, almost freezing, and Steve almost jumped at the sudden sensation. His gaze immediately shot to Tony, who wasn't even looking at him, but on the space where they were touching. 

"Why the hell are you so warm?" It sounded both like a demand and a tease, as Steve soaked in the chill of Tony's hand, rough and calloused from years of hard work, and Steve found that he couldn't speak at first. It wasn't a deliberate action, the connection of skin to skin so easy, too casual for it to be intentional. 

"... Serum side-effect, maybe?" He finally managed to answer. It was subconscious, but his other hand went over to cover Tony's own, his taller fingers paler, a stark contrast to Tony's olive tone. "Your hand is freezing, Tony."

He didn't try to think about the fact that their hands fit together perfectly.

"Yeah, well, never been too fond of the cold," Tony grimaced, and his fingers squeezed lightly. Steve thought his heart would leap out of his chest.

And they continued on watching in silence. The questions were there in Steve's head, why, when, where, how,  _why_ , but he didn't voice them all out loud, all too aware of the fragile stability of the situation. This, this could change their relationship, of what they had, and he was too scared to lose it all in one stroke. 

So he didn't dare.

They were already halfway into the movie, the climax was approaching, and Steve could feel the way Tony reacted to everything he saw: the shift of his fingers, the press of his palm, the pressure of his hold. Tony's hand slid down further his bare arm, moving away from under his hand, creating goosebumps in their wake--which Steve was  _sure_  was due to the cold--and finally nestled itself to grasp the rested hand on his thigh, slipping in between the web of his thumb and forefinger, Tony's thumb running along the knuckles of his fingers with some thought.

Steve was certain he gasped, and the part around his chest lurched and ached. He couldn't understand, why was this going on,  _what was Tony trying to tell him?_ , and he turned his head to catch Tony staring at him with that look and smile again and Steve found that it really didn't matter all that much.

Instantly, instinctively, his hand curled around Tony's fingers, not tightly, but enough to transfer some warmth. Maybe Tony was cold, Steve tried to reason with himself, maybe he just needed some body warmth. If so then Steve wouldn't begrudge him for that, he was warmer than average, after all. 

_He didn't want to pull away._

Holding hands now, Steve turned his attention to the movie again, and was surprised to find that he still could, while still being hyper aware of their brushing skin. Tony was a solid weight on his palm, rapidly turning warm with his help, and it was like holding Tony was something usual, something  _normal_  that it almost felt like an extension of himself.

It was both a calming and petrifying thought.

He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Tony shifting his grip, and  now his hand was clasped in between the other's own, light in between darker hues.   

"You have big hands." Tony marveled quietly, studying his hand in the dim light like he would do to one of his creations, and heat crept up his cheeks. Fingertips traced the edge of his blunt fingernails, pressed together palm to palm and finger to finger that Steve found what Tony was talking about; his hand was larger, fingers thicker, eclipsing Tony's by almost a knuckle and Steve didn't realize before that Tony had such small hands. Small, sturdy, roughened. Very capable looking. And Steve knew just how much.

He settled for a sort of shrug, trying not to watch Tony looking at his hand. "I've had them even before the serum." It was the only thing about him that was normal sized when he was so small, and even then, too weak to accomplish anything substantial. 

"Hmm." Tony hummed in thought, weighing his hand on his palm, and looked at him again, so many emotions flickering in his eyes, too fast and too abrupt for Steve to see.

And this time, with deliberate slowness, their fingers slotted together in between the spaces they were meant to fill, closing in on itself and forging a connection  tangible than ever before. 

Steve didn't know if his heart could take more. This closeness, this  _intimacy,_  was maddening. What was Tony doing, what did Tony want to achieve? Tony never showed interest in him that way, never looked at him like that before, like... like...

Steve was only thing he could see in the world. 

His heart clenched. He should pull away, he should stop, ask why, stop his mind from torturing itself. 

But he wanted this. At the inside, in his very core... he wanted it. He  _needed_  it. And it was almost worth the self-inflicted anguish he was feeling, knowing perfectly that he could bring this all to a head with just three words.

_What are we?_

What exactly were they? Friends? Something more? God knew Steve wanted to be the latter. It was vague, indistinct, that gray area in a relationship Steve didn't thought he would be in. He knew, he  _should_ , bring an end to this. He couldn't keep guessing forever.

"Steve, Steve, my favorite part's coming up," Tony grasped at his hand and shook it a little, saying it with so much childlike excitement that Steve had to smile and squeeze back, once again his worries flying away with the wind.  

"Okay, okay," He was laughing, placating, enjoying their closeness because it might be the only time he could, it was Tony who started it, who reached out and held his hand and Steve only did it back because it would be hurtful and rude not to.

... Right?

Beside him Tony was laughing, eyes sparkling with mirth. It suited him, Steve thought, his attention to the movie moving away to watch Tony instead, to watch him laugh and have fun and it made him... well... sparkle. He liked seeing Tony happy.

"Oh god, this movie's killing me," Tony was breathless, still chuckling, and pressed his cheek against Steve's bicep as he tried to catch a breath. Tony was leaning on him, head tucked in his neck and Steve couldn't help but tense, though immediately it relaxed, taking to the intrusion of personal space better than Steve would have liked. 

His mind was screaming. But his body was yielding.   

What would they have looked like from an outsider's point of view, Steve thought with some mild panic, face flaming and chest feeling like it would give up on him any second. It was a cozy looking scene, he realized, two lovers cuddling on the couch as they watched a movie together.

But he and Tony weren't lovers at all.

Stop thinking, his mind chided at him. Let go and enjoy it as much as you can. 

But Steve couldn't let this go, not that easily, not when it was already his emotions that were at stake. He recognized the sensation of falling, that dizzying, downward spiral, and his efforts to stop it, while valiant, were futile.

Despite his better judgement Steve was leaning closer, tucking Tony's head into his shoulder more so they would be more comfortable. They were still speaking in low voices, commenting on the movie and clearing up Steve's occasional confusion, the plot finally tying itself together and reaching its conclusion.

They were still holding hands when the credits came rolling up.  

He was glad that the movie ended where it was, because Steve thought he couldn't take any more of the tension. It was there, thick, volatile, stretched out to its breaking point and Steve didn't know what he'd do if it did. Tony slipped out of his grip before the lights came up, and he mourned at the loss. He was getting used to Tony's weight, and that wasn't good.

"So? What'd you think?" The popcorn was finished, the cola bottles drained, though Steve didn't remember eating a single bite, or taking a small sip. "The movie all right?"

"Uh... yeah." Steve looked at his hand. It was still tingling. "It was okay."

Tony was beaming at him, and Steve gave a tentative smile back. It was as if the spell was broken, like what happened a few minutes ago was just a figment of his imagination, a dream, a part of the movie.

But it wasn't. Steve knew it wasn't.

"Yeah, well, fun's over, time to go back to the lab and work." Tony yawned and stretched, scratching his head and looking so  _Tony_  that Steve felt something in him die a little inside. "What about you, Cap? Turning in for the night?"

The answer he was going to say was cut off by a sudden loud shrill, and Tony grimaced at the sound, fishing in his pockets for his phone, and just like that, he changed  _again_ , his features visibly softening once he saw who the person on the other line was.  

"Hey, Pep! Fancy you calling--No, it was not me, why would you think--It was one time! Can't a guy do something once and never let it be lived down--Fine, fine, all  _right_ , I'll check on it. You arrived there okay? Yeah? Nobody's bullying you? Oh good, think you can swing by next weekend?"

Steve was still smiling, but he knew that his jaw was fixed, his teeth hurting by just how much he clenched them together. Because this was the deal breaker. Because this was what made it so difficult to cut clear, to put it back into shades of black and white.

It was that portrait of a happy couple on Tony's desk that he returned to at the end of every day, that  _Steve_  could see every day. 

"You turning in for the night, Cap?"  Tony was now off the phone, the lights shutting off behind him, basking them both in semidarkness once more. 

"Yeah, I should." His voice was rough. Almost breaking. But he kept himself together. He had to. "Tony..."

"Steve..." Tony said at the same time, and they stopped, stared at each other, trying to say the things words couldn't. 

_Why, What, Will you, Can you--?_

Then Tony smiled, lips lopsided, and asked him four words that made Steve's world crash and burn and bright and complete. 

_"Let's watch again sometime?"_

And Steve knew what his answer would be, clinging to the shred of what he could with desperation. He did this to himself, made himself hurt over the agony of What about and What if's, but he would rather take that than lose what he had at that moment.

He lost everything once. He never wanted to experience that again.

 _"Okay."_  

And the moment Tony smiled back at him and disappeared back into his lab, that was the only time Steve would allow himself to crumble, to think, to doubt and to worry.

But not in front of Tony. Never in front of him. 

It was only when Steve was back on his bed, staring at the ceiling and sleep not haunting him in the slightest, that he realized something. 

_Indecisiveness... is painful._

     

**Author's Note:**

> So... I made a fanfic about my complicated romantic situation at the moment, using the Superhusbands as my template. I just... I don't really know, I don't understand what's happening to me and this guy at all, I know there's something but I... Maybe I'm just too scared. I've never felt this way about anyone before and thinking about him that way scares me because the lines aren't clear. 
> 
> It might resolve itself in time, maybe not. I just hope that whatever happens... it would turn out for the better, if not exactly for the better of my own.
> 
> This is unbeta'd, and possibly OOC. This is just the outlet of my frustrations, and if you have some idea on what to do, please, by all means, share. Because I honestly, truly, don't know what to do.


End file.
